


after practice

by defyopera



Category: Women's Soccer RPF
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-08-20
Updated: 2013-08-20
Packaged: 2017-12-24 02:27:18
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,793
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/934109
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/defyopera/pseuds/defyopera
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Alex asks Hope for some one-on-one practice and gets more than she bargained for.</p>
            </blockquote>





	after practice

**Author's Note:**

> Timeline is vaguely during Alex and Hope being on the Seattle Sounders Women team together.

When she texts Hope to see if she’ll come out and practice with her for awhile, Alex is only slightly nervous. Nervous because even though she’s played on two different teams now with Hope, and even though she feels like she knows way too much about Hope’s life that didn’t come firsthand (she’s been avoiding the book, because it seems too much like reading a diary), and even though she really _does_ think Hope is probably the best goalkeeper in the world, she can still count the number of real conversations they’ve ever had on one hand.

From what she understands, this isn’t that unusual when it comes to Hope - for the amount of time the woman spends in the spotlight, she’s actually pretty reserved - and partially for that reason too, Alex texts her, out of some strange attempt to get to know her better. After all, they’re teammates twice over and Alex can never get rid of the nagging feeling to be the best possible teammate she can be, which makes her feel like a bit of a goody two-shoes sometimes, but hey, it’s served her well so far.

Hope replies _“Who is this?”_ and Alex blushes furiously even on the other end of the phone. Her fingers fumble as she tries to type a response that doesn’t come off as idiotic as she feels.

The text comes back: _“Sure. I’ll see you at 3.”_

*

Alex gets there twenty minutes early.

Another trait she can’t seem to shake.

Luckily, Hope is a little early too, and when she gets out of her car and swings a duffel bag over her shoulder, her goalie gloves in one hand, keys in the other, Alex feels a little bit like she’s invited the most popular girl in school over for a sleepover.

She tells herself rather harshly to shut up. They’re teammates. They practice together. That’s what teammates do.

“So what do you want to work on?” Hope asks, shielding her eyes as she looks up at Alex while she roots through her bag.

“I need to know how you see things,” Alex says, and Hope looks up again, this time to arch an eyebrow in confusion. Alex recovers, “I mean, I want to know....when I’m coming at the goal, and I’m trying to score, how do you see it?” It’s more of an existential question than true technique, but Alex wants to know every part of it, every possible thing that could make her a better forward, and Hope seems to hold a key to answers she can’t unlock herself.

“I see.” Hope finally stands, and now she’s looking down at Alex, slightly, holding the height advantage. “You want me to give away all my secrets.”

Alex laughs, even though she’s not sure Hope is kidding. “No, I just...” 

To her relief, Hope lets her off easy with a smile. “Come on. Show me why they call you Baby Horse.” And with that, she tosses the ball at Alex’s feet and heads for the goal.

Somehow the nickname sounds a little less lighthearted and a little more....sexy coming out of Hope’s mouth. Alex shakes the thought from her head and dribbles the ball downfield, taking it side to side just for practice rather than in a straight line. 

On this end of it, she finally sees what all of their opponents must see when they try to score, and it’s terrifying - Hope in the goal is focused, merciless, singularly-minded, with an intensity that’s enough to make Alex want to turn around and send the ball the other way. She wonders if that is part of what makes Hope so good - because you’d have to be an idiot not to be afraid of her.

Unable to shut her brain up long enough to focus on the shot, Alex takes it, even though she’s not ready, and Hope catches it easily. Alex stands with her hands on her hips, her cheeks reddening.

Hope, though, simply tosses the ball back out to her and points. “Again.”

*

The clouds darkening overhead finally let the first drops of rain fall instead of just threatening to do so after a few hours, and they both run to Hope’s car trying to make it before it starts pouring, because Alex walked to the field and didn’t think about how she was going to get home. She blames it on the nerves, but still feels a little silly when Hope asks how she got here.

They slam the doors just as the rain starts _really pouring,_ a true Seattle storm, and for a moment they just watch the windshield go from clear to blurry, like paint rolling down the glass, as the sky opens up.

“Hungry?” Hope asks, starting the car.

Alex looks at her, the question coming unexpectedly. “Yeah,” she says, and as Hope pulls out of the parking lot, Alex decides not to ask where they’re going. She likes surprises.

*

‘Surprised’ doesn’t cover it when they pull up to Hope’s house.

At least - she assumes it’s her house. When Hope gets out of the car and a huge wet golden retriever comes leaping up at the fence and Alex follows her slowly, the rain having thankfully died down to a just a drizzle, Alex is pretty confident of where they are, though much less confident in what they’re doing there.

The place is - not bare, but - not full, either. Hope gestures around. “As you can see, I haven’t exactly had time to decorate...” The dog follows them in and licks at Alex’s hand. Hope nudges him back outside before they get too far. “Oh, no you don’t. Not in here, you’ll get us soaked.” Even as she says it, she ruffles his head and ears, and Alex smiles as she watches Hope’s affection become evident.

Hope opens the fridge and reveals an incredible amount of food for someone who isn’t home eighty percent of the time. She gives Alex a wry smile. “My mom is constantly sending me stuff because she thinks I’ll never have time to buy groceries when I’m home and therefore, I’ll starve.” As she considers the fridge’s contents, she shrugs. “Which, she’s right, I guess. But either way, I could never eat all this by myself, so you’re going to help me.” She starts rummaging around in drawers.

Alex pulls up a stool to sit by the counter and grins. “My mom does that too, but it’s usually with stuff that’s terrible for me. Like, crazy amounts of cookies.” 

Hope laughs as she pulls out some kind of fancy-looking platter and other odds and ends. She opens a cabinet below the counter, gets a concentrated look on her face, and when she comes back up she holds a bottle in each hand. “Red, or white?”

*

She’d never tell Hope, but wine makes her flushed, and hot, and talk too much, even moreso than usual, but when she’s standing by the sink, and Hope turns around and takes her by the waist and pushes her against the counter to kiss her, Alex can’t say she’s surprised, or that she wants it stop.

Because she definitely doesn’t want it to stop.

The wine cancels out the nerves from earlier enough for Alex to wrap her arms around Hope and kiss her like she’s never kissed anyone before, but not enough for her to stay calm when Hope’s hands slip under her shirt like they belong there and what’s Alex going to do about it, anyway? She tentatively tugs at the edge of Hope’s shirt because her mind is honestly totally occupied with the fact that she’s kissing Hope, her teammate, maybe her friend, now, and she vaguely wonders if there’s anything in Hope’s book that would have prepared her better for this moment.

Hope picks her up - it takes Alex several moments to realize her feet aren’t on the ground anymore - and just as quickly sets her down somewhat roughly on the nearest couch, tugging Alex’s shirt up and over her head. It gets caught for a moment and Alex is sure she turns red pretty much everywhere but then the shirt is gone and Hope is on her, kissing her neck, tracing one finger along her stomach, and Alex can’t do anything but gasp and squeeze her eyes shut and try to retain some sense of composure.

Which disappears when Hope removes her own shirt and Alex sees she’s wearing nothing under it.

Hope rocks her hips against Alex smoothly, developing a rhythm, and Alex feels her body respond before the command reaches her mind. She tangles her hands in Hope’s hair, gripping the back of her neck, and Hope keeps her mouth captured with her own while her hands dive under the waistband of Alex’s pants.

It’s all Alex can do not to physically jerk when Hope presses down, and Hope pulls back slightly to look at her, whispering, “Do you want to stop?”

Alex shakes her head violently _No_ and, to her own surprise, grips Hope’s wrist and pushes down, her eyes fluttering closed, and feels silently victorious at the surprise that flickers across Hope’s face before it’s replaced with intensity, but not the kind she wears at the goal line - this is something more inviting, irresistible, and Alex can’t get enough. She’s squirming under Hope, she knows, but she can’t keep still the way Hope is touching her and she feels like she might break open into a thousand pieces if they go much longer.

Hope, sensing this, puts the brakes on, taking her time, but it only makes Alex that much more crazy. Her quick intakes of breath dissolve to slow, shuddering ones, her hips rocking against Hope’s hand, gripping Hope’s elbow as Hope braces herself above Alex. Outside, the rain has started again and it’s dark and enclosed, burying them in a secret. Alex tilts her head back into the couch and can’t, just can’t take it anymore--

Hope’s mouth finds her ear and she’s whispering, “Shh,” and she’s kissing her neck and the waves are rolling through Alex’s body. She’s sure Hope can feel it where she straddles her. Hope pushes Alex’s hair out of her eyes and leans down to kiss her again.

With the wine still coursing through her, Alex says breathlessly, “Do you do this after every practice?”

Hope laughs, a real laugh, a sound that Alex isn’t sure she’s ever heard before now that she does, and replies, “Why, does that mean you’ll suddenly want a few more one-on-one sessions?”

Alex finally regains enough muscle control to smile back. “Maybe,” she says, and reaches up to kiss Hope again, pulling her body closer to be flush with her own, and outside the rain slowly fades.


End file.
